Tree Tales: Anubis, the corpse flower, has bloomed

Friday

Nov 15, 2013 at 5:00 PMNov 15, 2013 at 5:49 PM

By Vonnie MapleThe Journal-Standard

I touched a corpse and I liked it. Of course, it was a corpse flower, and it was surprisingly soft, like rose petals. The plant has been grown and cared for by master gardener Don Doak of Freeport and he went on to tell me, "Only a half dozen recorded blooming events occur worldwide in any given year. Gardening enthusiasts have traveled to South East Asia, just for the chance to see a bloom in person, only to miss the grand opening by a single day. Blooming is unpredictable and entirely too brief."

Doak is one of these gardening enthusiasts, but he does not have to travel any further than out his own back door and into his greenhouse. Doak allowed me to be a part of this historic moment.

Last week, I visited Doak's home with two of my friends. Doak was in his backyard when we arrived, but he was gracious enough to give us a guided tour. Everywhere we looked was something special, from the huge Koi pond that he had installed, with a little help from members of the Freeport High School football team, under the supervision of Coach Cal Cummins, to tree after spectacular tree that he planted. I assure you, there will be future stories from his amazing land of trees and plants.

Today, however, the focus is on Anubis, one of Doak's pet projects. As the opening statement revealed, the grand opening of this flower is monumental and sought by many. Doak has faithfully stayed in touch with me since our first encounter, a mere two weeks ago, by sending emails, pictures and texts. The first time I heard of the corpse plant was in June of 2012, while reading an issue of a magazine entitled, Awake, and I was immediately intrigued. While doing research for another Tree Tales I stumbled onto Morticia, a huge corpse flower that resides at the Franklin Park Zoo. It had recently bloomed. That was a fascinating story in itself, but I never dreamed I would actually have the opportunity to see one in person.

So much information surrounds this amazing flower that Doak helped me with all the research he did. I will now share some.

The corpse flower has what is known as "deceptive pollination." The huge flower it creates generates heat, a lurid coloration and the odor of a rotting carcass that is irresistible to carcass eating beetles and flies. The duped insects lay their eggs in what they believe to be a safe environment with food for their eggs to hatch. The tiny creatures have been deceived, however. There is no food, but the pollination has been carried out and the corpse flower comes out the winner.

Apparently, the energy needed to produce such a gigantic flower and the energy needed to generate enough heat to create this deception is quite high. Doak thinks Anubis probably lost about 10 pounds burning carbohydrates and preparing for this phenomenal display. He goes on to explain, "Anubis topped out at 7 feet 4 inches and created quite the spectacle, eliciting excited 'oohs' and 'ahs' from dozens of delighted viewers, despite the spontaneous nose-wrinkling from his 'Oh, I can smell it' aroma.

"After resting a few months, Anubis will grow a single palm tree shaped leaf, upward of 15-feet tall and 10-feet wide. It may be another 10 years before he blooms again, since sending up a flower took so much out of him."

It is very rare in cultivation and even more rare to see the flower itself. The University of Wisconsin in Madison reported a temporary overload in internet service back in 2001, as so many people wanted to see the corpse flower bloom for the first time in the state of Wisconsin. I am trying to convince Doak to put his story and his pictures on the internet.

There is one sad note to this story, at least for me. I missed it. Anubis chose to open up last Saturday in the early evening, just in time for a dinner party Doak was hosting for a few friends.

It started closing already the next morning. Unfortunately, I was out of town. By the time I arrived Monday morning, it was completely closed. I was saddened, yes, but Doak's enthusiasm, as he shared his excitement and pictures, made me feel as if I had been right there, too. The only thing I really missed out on was the odor, and according to the picture of Doak's father looking into the giant bloom, that might be a good thing.

This fascinating event is over, but many other exciting events are still to come. I hope to stay in touch and be available in 10 more years, unless Anubis' younger brother, "Beetlejuice" decides to bloom.